


Atlantis, Decked

by AndreaLyn



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2263644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the holidays and each culture has their own traditions to contribute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atlantis, Decked

The halls of Atlantis were properly decked.   
  
Holly and decorations and things they had picked up on the mainland while on a routine visit and McKay had found out from Teyla that her people even had their own little mistletoe tradition. Of course, he’d found out five seconds too late when one of the younger members of the community – and see, male, this was the funny part to Sheppard – grabbed McKay by the lapels and kissed him, all to the tune of McKay’s, ‘oh god, no, not again’. Apparently, you kissed someone of the same sex that you deeply respected. Which was neither here nor there, because hey, it was McKay’s reaction that was  _really_  worth it.   
  
It might have been the ‘not again’ part that really amused Sheppard.   
  
“I do not understand,” Teyla remarked as they made their way down the halls towards the sparring room. “Why does your holiday call for decorative flora being the reason for people to kiss each other?” She smiled warmly. “Shouldn’t people kiss each other without the help of this ‘mistletoe’ if they wish a romantic relationship?”  
  
“Yeah, but,” Sheppard drawled out lazily. “We’re sort of cowards and need all the help we can get.”  
  
Teyla seemed to enjoy that and laughed at his joke, handing him their weapons of the day and tapping Sheppard on the behind with the one. “Is that the reason for Doctor McKay’s thorough enjoyment of the plant?”  
  
“Yeah,” Sheppard confirmed, drawing out the word. “Not to mention his insistence that we get Carter to Atlantis ASAP.”  
  
Their training began easily, the discussion fallen by the wayside but not forgotten. Not just yet.  
  
*  
  
When John Sheppard woke up the next day, he found the mistletoe on his doorstep with an arrow through it and a note attached that just said: “I Know This Was Your Idea.”  
  
But really, all Sheppard wanted to know was where in hell they were getting arrows around there? And why didn’t he have some?  
  
*  
  
Atlantis doesn’t exactly have a great bar to go to after a rough day. Even when the Nanites and the Wraith are after you, there’s not exactly a bottle of Jim Bean waiting to ask how your day went. Of course, that didn’t stop the scientists from having their little secret meetings while Weir wasn’t looking.   
  
Ronon once overheard some hush about ‘stills’ and ‘distill’ and even a word that Sheppard really liked: ‘Whiskey’.   
  
Teyla, she told Sheppard one night, had seen McKay and Zelenka sampling something and making alternate noises between pain and pleasure.  
  
And god, if that wasn’t alcohol.  
  
And it wasn’t like Sheppard needed or  _wanted_  to ask, you know? He wasn’t that kind of a needy guy, but these were members of his expedition and they were a team. He wondered about the good ol’ days of teamwork and sharing. People didn’t share anymore. They really should, but what were you gonna do about it?   
  
It was at the designated ‘Celebrate Your Designated Festive Holiday’ party in the cafeteria that Sheppard realized that Buddha-Ganesh-God-Whoever really loved him this year and that sharing was making a big comeback.   
  
The egg nog was  _spiked_.   
  
*  
  
 _Four Hours Later_  
  
The egg nog was spiked with demon liquor, Sheppard decided. Either that or in the past few hours, Atlantis had definitely done some remodeling and gotten rid of all those flat floors and installed new bumpy ones.   
  
Which just reminded him of clowns, which Sheppard did not want to be thinking of.  
  
“You are such a lush,” McKay’s voice came floating into his consciousness from  _somewhere_  or other. Maybe heaven? Maybe McKay was a heavenly annoying angel, sent to Earth…or Atlantis, in this case, to keep Sheppard in line? … Nah. McKay didn’t have those puffy wings. And then there was an arm around him. “Come on, you have to go to the uh, drunk tank.”  
  
“Is that just your fancy scientist word for prison?” Sheppard slurred, peering up. “Hey, McKay! Wait!” He probably sounded like some fascinated teenager, but there was the mistletoe and he couldn’t let mistletoe go to waste. “Come here!” He didn’t even wait for an answer as he reached out and grabbed in the general area of McKay, tugging him close for a sloppy kiss under the mistletoe.  
  
After about five seconds, he eased back and pointed at him. “I mean that in the most respectable of ways.”  
  
McKay didn’t look exactly happy, the way he was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes, yes, I’m sure you say that to all the girls,” he muttered sarcastically.  
  
Sheppard draped an arm around McKay’s shoulders. “Nah. Just the smart chicks.”  
  
And he wandered off in search of more of that good ol’ Atlantis style holiday cheer.


End file.
